To all of my students — thank you.
To the incredible Peninsula Printmakers — thank you.
To the collectors who buy and appreciate my work — thank you.
To the community art groups who welcome me with open arms — thank you.
To the amazing members of the Frankston and Mornington Rotary clubs — thank you for your ongoing support.
To the Frankston Council — thank you for recognizing and uplifting my work.
To the wonderful team at the Frankston Arts Centre — thank you for championing what I do.
To my girl pals — thank you for lifting me up when life gets tough. Your care means everything.
But most of all — and this is the most important thank you --
To my husband: Thank you for loving me unconditionally, for supporting my dream of being an artist, for working so hard so that I could simply be me. You've never asked for anything more than my happiness — and that is a rare and beautiful love.
Without your unwavering support, I wouldn’t be able to thank anyone else. Now it’s my time to support you, to care for you, and to love you with the same unconditional heart. Because that’s what love truly is — it’s not just about the good times, it’s about standing together through everything.
It’s the same love I pour into my art, my children, my community — and every part of this journey.
Thank you. 😊

Billy Nye is a Mornington Peninsula–based visual artist whose bold, stylized works celebrate the everyday beauty of Australian suburbia. Working across painting, digital media, and printmaking—particularly linocuts—Nye transforms familiar scenes like rooftops, power poles, and coastlines into vibrant compositions that reflect place, memory, and cultural identity. Influenced by Howard Arkley, Jeffrey Smart, and David Hockney, she blends traditional techniques with contemporary color palettes and hand-coloring to create layered, tactile prints.
Her work is held in public and private collections across Japan, Fiji, Wales, China, Singapore, New York, and the U.S., including the Bendigo Art Gallery and the University of Florida. An active community arts advocate, Nye leads Peninsula Printmakers, a collective that supports and connects local artists through printmaking.

Billy Nye is an Australian visual artist based on the Mornington Peninsula, known for her vibrant portrayals of suburban life through painting, digital media, and especially printmaking. Her work often captures everyday sights—power poles, local beaches, and tiled rooftops—transforming them into colorful, stylized compositions that reflect the beauty of the familiar. With strong influences from artists like Howard Arkley, Jeffrey Smart, Reg Mombassa, and David Hockney, Nye’s work celebrates the overlooked charm of Australian suburbia.

Trained with a Diploma of Visual Art from Chisholm Institute and a BA in Fine Art and Visual Culture, Nye has developed a rich, multidisciplinary practice grounded in both conceptual and technical skill. Her printmaking, particularly in linocut and monoprint, forms a central part of her creative output. Nye uses traditional methods in combination with contemporary color palettes and hand-coloring techniques to create layered, tactile works that reflect a sense of place and memory.

In addition to her studio practice, Nye is an active advocate for printmaking as a community practice. She leads the Peninsula Printmakers, a collective that supports emerging artists and fosters creative exchange on the Mornington Peninsula. Her work has been widely exhibited in local galleries and public art projects, where her detailed, nostalgic, and distinctly Australian scenes continue to engage audiences across generations.

Today was Big Jac’s turn.
She’s larger, broader across the roller, and she carries her years in the weight of her frame. Just lifting her onto the bench took a moment—she’s solid steel and brass, none of that hollow stuff. Where Little Jac glides, Big Jac grounds. She presses down like she means it.
I started the same way: disassembly, a careful sort of unbuilding. Her hardware was stiff, crusted with old ink and time. I soaked the bolts, eased them free, and laid each piece out like a puzzle. It was slow work—Brasso for the brass, vinegar for the buildup, Steelo for the stubborn corners. Some parts needed more elbow grease. Others, just time and a soft cloth.
She didn’t shine at first. Big Jac’s patina was deeper, more stubborn, like she’d soaked up every studio she’d ever been in. But bit by bit, she came back. Under the muck, the metal gleamed. Her handle, worn smooth by years of grip, took on a warm luster once I rubbed in some oil and polish. She looked proud again.
But it wasn’t just about making her pretty. It was about bringing her back to work. Once she was reassembled, I ran her dry across the glass, then through some scrap newsprint. No chatter. No skip. Just a smooth, clean roll—heavy and even. That weight, that compression—it’s like she was made for this.
I kept thinking about Jacqueline while I worked. I don’t know how many prints she pulled with Big Jac, but I can feel the history in the tool. There’s something sacred about using the same roller someone else loved, someone who probably stood at a similar bench, wiping ink from the same kinds of grooves, rolling down onto paper with the same quiet satisfaction.
Now Little Jac and Big Jac sit together in the studio. One light and quick, the other deliberate and strong. Both ready.
Tomorrow, I print.

Billy Nye - Printmaker Australia